demonstration?”
“Oh, aye, I like it well enough. Lots of lovely pyrotechnics. Hooray for the Red, White and Blue…but ah dinnieken why ye want another vendor. Which of my bloody systems have underperformed for ye?”
“What’s the matter, Lord Destro? Don’t you believe in capitalism?”
“I believe in loyalty. From vendor to customer as well as from customer to vendor.”
“Mmm, that’s one view, but it’s self-corrupting. Competition, on the other hand, encourages innovation, shortens time to market, and allows for more rational discussions of price.”
“Don’t be daft. I’m fair scunnered with these games. There’s a trust issue here as well.”
“Trust is earned.”
“And haven’t I earned your trust?”
“Allow me to modify that statement. Trust needs to be continually earned.”
The man with the silver face said nothing.
“Dr. Prospero is offering some exciting new technologies. His hybrid Skyjack/Tempest intrusion software is probably worth the price he’s asking for the whole package. I don’t really need the exosuit, though admittedly there are some members of the Crimson Guard who would enjoy field testing it.” He paused. “Really, Destro, if you had a mobile tactical command unit like Caliban we might not be having this conversation.”
“I can make one, as ye damn well know.”
“‘Can make one’ is far less appealing to me than ‘have one now.’ I can have the schematics for Dr. Prospero’s technology ten minutes after a wire transfer to the Caymans. Can you do that for me?”
Lord Destro’s face was inert steel, and yet it seemed to convey both anger and menace.
The man in the comfortable chair chuckled. “I thought not.”
“You know you can’t trust him,” said Destro. “Unless you’re so soft that you believe that he’s doing this all for morality and greater good.”
“Mmm, and all this time I thought you were an idealist, and yet you are always willing to take my money. What are you saying? That idealism is merely a candy coating over a poisoned apple?”
“Are you comparing me to that maniac?” demanded Destro.
“If you’re uncomfortable with the question, then forget I said anything. Contact me when you have something for me to consider.”
“‘Consider’? In the name of the wee man! What about our agreements?”
“Free market,” said the man with an airy wave of the hand. “Sadly, it’s become a free market.”
He disconnected the call and reached for his wine, sipped it. And smiled.
-6-
Destro Castle
Scotland
Lord Destro reached out and tapped a key to disconnect his end of the call. The white static vanished on the screen. He slowly stood and walked slowly across the room, his steps measured and his posture thoughtful. His two dogs―great brutes of black hounds named Cu Sith and Boky―lifted their heads and watched him. They knew their master and his moods, and they were not at all fooled by the calm façade; just as they were not surprised when their master suddenly snatched up a silver and crystal goblet and threw it the length of the room.
Boky whuffed softly.
Cu Sith bared a fang and growled low in his throat.
Destro sighed and bowed his head.
Honor was a ten ton weight at times. He’d known about Prospero for years and had worked with him off and on. A gentleman’s agreement was supposed to be in place. Prospero would bring his drones and software systems to him and Destro would in turn broker them to Cobra. Now it was clear to a blind man that Prospero had no intention of including Destro in any part of this exchange. Not even so much as a finder’s fee for having introduced the old tosspot to the Commander. And Destro had lent Prospero some of his own systems and even one of his top men, Han Kong, to speed the development along. Kong, of course, had finessed a few things according to Destro’s requirements, none of which were shared with Prospero. That wasn’t dishonorable, that was
“Oh, aye, I like it well enough. Lots of lovely pyrotechnics. Hooray for the Red, White and Blue…but ah dinnieken why ye want another vendor. Which of my bloody systems have underperformed for ye?”
“What’s the matter, Lord Destro? Don’t you believe in capitalism?”
“I believe in loyalty. From vendor to customer as well as from customer to vendor.”
“Mmm, that’s one view, but it’s self-corrupting. Competition, on the other hand, encourages innovation, shortens time to market, and allows for more rational discussions of price.”
“Don’t be daft. I’m fair scunnered with these games. There’s a trust issue here as well.”
“Trust is earned.”
“And haven’t I earned your trust?”
“Allow me to modify that statement. Trust needs to be continually earned.”
The man with the silver face said nothing.
“Dr. Prospero is offering some exciting new technologies. His hybrid Skyjack/Tempest intrusion software is probably worth the price he’s asking for the whole package. I don’t really need the exosuit, though admittedly there are some members of the Crimson Guard who would enjoy field testing it.” He paused. “Really, Destro, if you had a mobile tactical command unit like Caliban we might not be having this conversation.”
“I can make one, as ye damn well know.”
“‘Can make one’ is far less appealing to me than ‘have one now.’ I can have the schematics for Dr. Prospero’s technology ten minutes after a wire transfer to the Caymans. Can you do that for me?”
Lord Destro’s face was inert steel, and yet it seemed to convey both anger and menace.
The man in the comfortable chair chuckled. “I thought not.”
“You know you can’t trust him,” said Destro. “Unless you’re so soft that you believe that he’s doing this all for morality and greater good.”
“Mmm, and all this time I thought you were an idealist, and yet you are always willing to take my money. What are you saying? That idealism is merely a candy coating over a poisoned apple?”
“Are you comparing me to that maniac?” demanded Destro.
“If you’re uncomfortable with the question, then forget I said anything. Contact me when you have something for me to consider.”
“‘Consider’? In the name of the wee man! What about our agreements?”
“Free market,” said the man with an airy wave of the hand. “Sadly, it’s become a free market.”
He disconnected the call and reached for his wine, sipped it. And smiled.
-6-
Destro Castle
Scotland
Lord Destro reached out and tapped a key to disconnect his end of the call. The white static vanished on the screen. He slowly stood and walked slowly across the room, his steps measured and his posture thoughtful. His two dogs―great brutes of black hounds named Cu Sith and Boky―lifted their heads and watched him. They knew their master and his moods, and they were not at all fooled by the calm façade; just as they were not surprised when their master suddenly snatched up a silver and crystal goblet and threw it the length of the room.
Boky whuffed softly.
Cu Sith bared a fang and growled low in his throat.
Destro sighed and bowed his head.
Honor was a ten ton weight at times. He’d known about Prospero for years and had worked with him off and on. A gentleman’s agreement was supposed to be in place. Prospero would bring his drones and software systems to him and Destro would in turn broker them to Cobra. Now it was clear to a blind man that Prospero had no intention of including Destro in any part of this exchange. Not even so much as a finder’s fee for having introduced the old tosspot to the Commander. And Destro had lent Prospero some of his own systems and even one of his top men, Han Kong, to speed the development along. Kong, of course, had finessed a few things according to Destro’s requirements, none of which were shared with Prospero. That wasn’t dishonorable, that was
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